


Friendship

by TrueIllusion



Series: Familiarity [13]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Friendship, M/M, POV Outsider, Physical Disability, Post-Canon, Traumatic Brain Injury, spinal cord injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 20:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16818205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueIllusion/pseuds/TrueIllusion
Summary: As the plane made its descent, Rob Anderson looked out the window at the glittering lights of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania -- a city he'd never been to before, oddly enough, even though he did quite a bit of business travel. He wasn't opposed to visiting, but he certainly wished it were under better circumstances.When he’d first run into Brian -- or, really, when Brian had run into him -- at a coffee shop in Manhattan nearly nine years ago, he’d never thought it would be the start of a close friendship. But now, he was grateful that life had brought them together on that snowy Tuesday afternoon.





	Friendship

_“I love your friends. They are like family.”_

_“Not like. They are.”_

*****

As the plane made its descent, Rob Anderson looked out the window at the glittering lights of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania -- a city he'd never been to before, oddly enough, even though he did quite a bit of business travel. He wasn't opposed to visiting, but he certainly wished it were under better circumstances.

When he’d first run into Brian -- or, really, when Brian had run into him -- at a coffee shop in Manhattan nearly nine years ago, he’d never thought it would be the start of a close friendship. But now, he was grateful that life had brought them together on that snowy Tuesday afternoon.

Rob had been sitting at one of the tiny shop’s few tables, working on some spreadsheets on his laptop and sipping herbal tea from a ceramic mug. He was finishing up the last of his drink, since he only had about thirty minutes until his next meeting, which was at his office, not too far from the shop. He’d noticed the dark-haired, hazel-eyed man when he came in, only because it wasn’t every day that he ran into another wheelchair user at random. He also thought he’d seen the man before, although he couldn’t quite place him. In his line of work, he saw a lot of people with various disabilities, so it was entirely possible that he’d seen him in passing somewhere at a medical office. He didn’t really know why this man had apparently stuck in his memory, given the number of people he interacted with for his job, but he definitely looked familiar.

As the man rolled up to the counter and ordered a drink, Rob had noticed that he looked frustrated. Rob wondered what his story was, and what was going on in his day. That was just the sort of thing Rob often wondered about people, and it was why he enjoyed people-watching. Hell, people-watching was why he chose to do so much of his work in coffee shops instead of in his office. He liked the challenge of trying to figure people out. He could hear the man’s exchange with the barista, which was very short and clipped. Yes, this man definitely seemed to be having a bad day. After he finished placing his order, he moved to the area at the other end of the counter to wait for his coffee. He was drumming his fingers on his thighs impatiently.

Rob had glanced down at his watch again, and noticed that he really needed to get going, so he folded his laptop and slid it into the backpack he had hanging on the back of his wheelchair, put his coat on, then placed his now-empty mug in his lap so he could take it up to the counter. He was just passing the impatient patron he’d been observing, when the other man received his coffee and turned abruptly, running straight into Rob.

The collision caused the man’s coffee to splash all over him, resulting in him sputtering and cursing.

“Fuck!” the man said, clearly disgusted. “Of fucking course this would happen today. The train being late and the goddamn foot of snow outside wasn’t enough for you, universe? I have to spill my fucking coffee all over myself too?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Rob said sarcastically. Although he wasn’t too surprised that the man was so absorbed in his own problems that he hadn’t even acknowledged the fact that he’d run right into him. “Are you really that clumsy, or did you get your driver’s license out of a cracker jack box?”

“Sorry,” the man spat without looking up, as he frantically dabbed at his coat with a wad of napkins he’d grabbed off the counter.

“You know, sometimes life has this way of making us slow down when we really need to, even if we don’t want to.”

“Who the fuck are you? I don’t remember asking for any sage advice, thanks. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be late to my meeting.”

With that, the dark-haired, hazel-eyed man secured the cup containing what was left of his nonfat latte between his thighs, turned, and pushed past Rob and out the door. Rob watched him for a few more seconds, until he was past the shop’s front window and he could no longer see him, then placed his own mug into the dishpan at the end of the counter and rolled out the door himself.

When Rob got back to his office, he still had a few minutes before he was due to be in the conference room. He knew that they had some sort of marketing genius coming, who was supposed to blow them all away with a new ad campaign for some of their new products. They mostly advertised in trade magazines directed at physicians, physical therapists, and the like, but they still needed a great campaign to make their custom prosthetics and mobility aids stand out above their competitors’ offerings. One of his coworkers had heard of this guy named Brian Kinney, who was supposed to be one of the best in his field -- award-winning, even.

Rob wasn’t too fond of these sorts of meetings, because he wasn't even really the decision-maker. He only had to sit in on them because the person who did make the decisions always wanted his opinion first. He really wished she would just decide for herself this time, and spare him having to sit through yet another sales pitch. But, it was what it was, and he had just enough time to make himself another cup of tea before heading to the conference room.

When he pushed himself through the door to the conference room, he was taken aback to see the same man he’d just seen in the coffee shop. The man seemed to be trying his best to look put together and on top of things, but Rob could tell that he was still flustered and frustrated by the apparent disaster that had been his day so far.

“Brian Kinney?” Rob said as he set his cup down on the conference table and rolled up to the man, who was hooking up his laptop to their projector system. Rob stuck his hand out just as Brian looked up and made eye contact with him. Rob saw a brief moment of surprise cross the man’s features before he hid it behind a stoic mask of businesslike indifference.

“That’s me,” Brian said as he shook Rob’s hand. “And you are?”

“Rob Anderson. Director of sales.”

“Nice to meet you.” Brian turned his attention back to his laptop.

“I think we’ve already met. Or did you think I’d forgotten you in the last twenty minutes?”

“I was hoping for that, maybe,” Brian huffed.

“Well, no such luck. I see you made it to your meeting in time.”

“Yeah, if I can get this thing to do what it’s supposed to do. Jesus…what a day.”

“Would you like me to try?”

“Be my guest.” Brian put his hands up and shrugged, then backed up so that Rob could get a closer look.

Within a few seconds, Rob had it working.

“You’ve got the magic touch, I suppose,” Brian said. His tone was starting to soften, Rob noticed. “Thanks.”

“No problem. This thing is finicky sometimes. Be glad you don’t have to use it every day.”

“Sorry for running into you at the coffee shop. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Rob laughed. “It’s no problem. I think I’ll survive.”

“I probably did just need to slow down. I hate days like this, when it seems like everything is working against me. Feels like I have a lot more of those now, with this.” He gestured down at his wheelchair.

Huh, Rob thought to himself, maybe this was new to him. He remembered how much it had sucked at 22 to have to navigate everything in a brand new way, and he couldn’t decide if it would have been better or worse if it had happened now, instead of just after he’d graduated from college.

“Anyway, I probably shouldn’t be telling you about my problems. You’re here to see my genius ad campaign, not to hear about how much my life sucks sometimes.”

“We all feel that way sometimes. It’s all about your perspective, though -- how you choose to look at things can make all the difference. So...how long have you been in a chair, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“What is this, gimp confessions?” Brian said sarcastically.

Rob liked this guy already. He was funny. Rob thought Brian wasn’t going to answer his question, but he did.

“A little over a year and a half,” he said, much more seriously. “I’m still learning, I guess. Wondering if it ever really gets easier or if you just learn to put up with the bullshit. How about you?”

“Fourteen years. It does get easier. And you do learn to put up with the bullshit.”

“Damn. Fourteen years. I can’t imagine.”

“You’ll get there someday too. It’s not that bad.”

“It wasn’t that long ago that I thought turning 30 was the absolute worst thing in the world,” Brian chuckled. “Now you’re asking me to think about being close to 50...no thank you.”

If Rob’s quick calculations were correct, it sounded like they were the same age. What were the odds of that? At that moment, Rob was already starting to feel like he and Brian were somehow meant to run into each other that day.

Brian’s presentation was excellent, and Sheila, the director of marketing, liked it as well, so they ended up going with Brian’s campaign. Everything else they’d seen before that had been underwhelming, so for Rob at least, it felt like an easy decision. And, he had to admit, he’d sort of been looking forward to the idea of getting to know the man a little bit better. He didn’t know what it was about Brian that made him want to know more about him, but Rob had a feeling that the two of them had quite a bit in common, aside from the obvious physical characteristics.

That chance meeting in the coffee shop, as it turned out, had been the catalyst for a friendship that blossomed gradually over the course of a lot of business meetings where more and more personal things got discussed, and more jokes and sarcastic remarks were exchanged. Eventually, they were meeting each other’s partners, had been to each other’s apartments, and were starting to become really good friends.

Rob had learned Brian’s story, and he had told Brian his own. He learned that Brian and Justin had been together off and on for a long time before they got married, which, at that time, had been relatively recent. That surprised him, because he could clearly see how much they loved each other in the way they acted and the way they spoke with each other -- it was subtle, but it was clear. It was obvious how much history they had together. Looking at them now, it was hard for Rob to imagine that they’d ever been apart.

“Let’s just say that my injury changed some things about me, and leave it at that,” was all Brian had said when Rob asked about what it was that had come between Brian and Justin back then, because they seemed so perfectly content now -- so loving and totally at ease with one another.

Rob did leave it at that. He knew how much his own injury had affected the relationship he’d been in at the time, and how it had ultimately caused that relationship to end, opening the door for him to meet Adam. He respected the fact that Brian might not want to talk about his experience. When he and Brian first met, Rob was constantly having to remind himself that although they both had the same type of injury, they were very much in two different places with it. He had to remember what it had been like to be only a year or two out, still secretly holding out hope that somehow things might change, even though you knew they weren’t likely to. Still struggling with new situations, or familiar situations that had become new because everything was different now, physically. Back then, he saw a lot of that struggle in Brian, even though Brian tried his best to hide it. He seemed to try to hide a lot of things.

Brian was very guarded. Rob liked Brian’s sarcastic personality, but Brian also seemed to be hiding something behind that biting wit. He didn’t appear to trust people easily. Rob wondered what that was about, but he never asked, and Brian never really told him. Even as Brian came to trust Rob, Rob never truly understood what it was that drove Brian to try to keep so much of himself hidden behind a wall. It seemed so exhausting to maintain -- keeping people at arm’s length all the time. Not to mention how lonely it would be. Rob had eventually been let in, but it had been a long process.

As their friendship grew, Brian had started to feel like a little brother to Rob, even though they were the same age. Brian would come to him with questions that Rob could tell he really didn’t want to ask -- questions about things Rob was sure Brian would never discuss with anyone else, but Rob had the answers and the experience, and he was happy to share that experience with Brian, so he wouldn’t have to feel it all out for himself the way Rob had years before. Rob could tell Brian was relieved to have someone to talk to who understood what it was like to be paralyzed -- who knew what came along with that without being told, because he’d been there.

When they’d first met, Brian had also been working on something that really piqued Rob’s interest -- an ad campaign directed at people with disabilities being truly seen as people and as equals, instead of overlooked or patronized. Once they started talking about that, he realized that he’d actually seen Brian on one of his posters in the subway before they’d ever met -- that was why he looked familiar. Rob had already been involved in advocating for equal access to medical care and public accessibility, so he was happy to bring Brian into that as well. It turned out to be quite the synergy, because Brian was one of the most charismatic people Rob knew, even though that charisma had been partially obscured by frustration and shame when they first met. Rob got it, though. He’d been there too. He knew that with the right support, those feelings wouldn’t last forever. And they didn’t.

Over the last nine years, Rob Anderson felt like he’d watched Brian Kinney find himself -- find a new identity -- and truly come into his own as a man with a disability, who had something to share with the world and something to fight for, and it had been beautiful to watch. Rob was grateful to have played even a small part in that journey, and it only made him even more sure that they'd been put into each other's lives for a reason. He knew Brian would say that was just some kind of karmic, spiritual bullshit, but Rob felt it was true.

When he finally hit the ground in Pittsburgh, Rob had to sit and wait while everyone else got off the plane, as usual. He was used to it, and had been for years, but it was still annoying sometimes, particularly when he was in a hurry to get somewhere. Tonight was one of those times. Getting out of New York had been a comedy of errors, with ticketing mix-ups, one cancelled flight, and then maintenance problems with the plane for the flight they’d rebooked him on. But they’d at least upgraded him to first class after he demanded a seat in the first row, like he’d requested on his original flight, so that was one good thing. And he’d finally made it to Pittsburgh, without too much of a delay overall.

Mostly, he just wanted to get to Brian so he could give him a hug. He couldn’t imagine what the last week must have been like for his friend, and he wished Brian would have let him know what was going on sooner, so he could have been there to help sooner. He hated Brian’s bullshit excuse that he hadn’t wanted to interrupt their holiday. Even after nine years, he was still completely baffled by the behaviors in Brian that made it look like he thought he was a burden somehow. That he had to take care of absolutely everything by himself, all the time.

Interrupting the holiday -- or anything else -- wouldn't have mattered. Rob would have been there. Because that's what friends do.

Brian hadn’t sounded good on the phone. He’d been putting up a good front, but Rob could tell that was all it was. And if there was one thing he’d learned in nine years of friendship with Brian Kinney, it was that sometimes Brian needed to be called on his bullshit. Rob was doing that now, by coming to Pittsburgh. He wasn’t going to just stand by and let Brian pretend that everything was fine, when it wasn’t.

The next step after getting off the plane was making his way to the car rental counters. He always enjoyed the looks on the clerks’ faces when he would roll up to the counter and ask to rent a car. He knew they were probably wondering how on earth he proposed to drive it, but they’d never ask. They’d just keep giving him wary looks as they completed the paperwork, really give him the hard sell on the extra insurance, then sometimes they’d stand outside and watch while he took his set of portable hand controls out of his suitcase and attached them to the car’s pedals. It only took a couple of minutes to do, and he’d be on his way.

Tonight was no different, right down to the gawking clerk who pretended to come outside for a smoke break as Rob proceeded to the car. He did what needed to be done, then queued up directions to the hospital on his phone. Once he knew how long it would take to get there, he sent a quick text to Brian, then started the car, and drove off.

When he pulled up to the front doors of the hospital, he saw Brian talking with a blonde-haired woman. As he got closer, he saw the resemblance, and assumed the woman had to be Justin’s mother. His assumption was confirmed a few seconds later when Brian introduced her as his Jennifer Taylor, his mother-in-law.

They only got to talk briefly, but Rob could tell he was going to like her just as much as he liked her son and son-in-law. She and Brian said goodbye, and Brian got himself into the car.

“I was wondering how you were planning on getting here,” Brian said, gesturing to Rob’s hand controls, which sat propped up between his knee and the console.

“They’re pretty damn handy. I might not need a car when I’m at home, but when I’m traveling, it’s kind of a necessity. So I bought these. You can rent cars with hand controls sometimes, but it’s a pain in the ass to get it arranged. This is easier. Now, enough small talk, come here, give me a hug.”

Rob pulled Brian into an embrace, noticing that his friend seemed to hold onto him a little tighter and longer than normal.

“How are you doing?” Rob said, as they let go.

“I’m okay.”

“The truth. Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not bullshitting.” Brian gripped the handle above the door so he could lean out and start taking his chair apart. Getting two wheelchairs into the back seat of the car was a bit more complicated than just one, but it could be done, with some careful and strategic stacking. “Jesus, that’s a lot of shit,” Brian said when he was done. “Good thing you didn’t rent a compact car.”

“Hashtag para life,” Rob chuckled.

Brian rolled his eyes. “Don’t try to pretend you’re all cool with your hipstergram shit and your fucking hashtags. You and Justin both. I’m sort of surprised he hasn’t asked for his phone so he can take pictures of his food. Not that it’s much to write home about at this point.”

“How’s he doing today?”

“A little better, I guess. The morning was kind of rough. But it got better as the day went on.”

“These things take time.”

“Christ, you really are a talking inspirational quote book. You’ve got a cliche for every occasion.”

Rob shrugged. “Part of my charm. It’s why you love me.”

A few minutes later, they were pulling up to the front of the hotel, where one of the bellhops unloaded the two suitcases Rob had brought from the trunk of the car. Rob and Brian got themselves out of the car, then Rob turned the keys over to the valet.

Might as well make things as easy as possible, he thought to himself. Brian looked really tired, so the last thing Rob wanted to do was make Brian do any more than was necessary. Rob was still feeling like he was right to come, and that there were probably things Brian wasn’t telling him. Rob knew firsthand how a UTI felt, especially when it was a bad one, and that it wasn’t easy to just push through, particularly when there were a lot of other stresses involved. But he knew Brian would try, no matter what the cost.

He checked into his own room at the front desk and asked the bellhop to take one suitcase up to his own room, and the second one -- which contained all of the various things he’d brought from Brian and Justin’s apartment -- up to Brian’s room, so they wouldn’t have to drag it up there themselves. As independent as Rob liked to be, he was more than willing to let people do things for him if it made life easier. That was one fundamental difference between him and Brian, who would fight his way through something difficult and inconvenient just for the satisfaction of knowing he’d done it himself, without any assistance. When they’d first met, Rob had chalked that up to Brian being newly injured, at least compared to himself, but now, he’d realized that was just Brian. He liked to be in control of everything, at all times. And Rob was sure that everything that was going on in Brian’s life at the moment was making him feel anything but in control.

They went up to Rob’s room first, where Brian’s first stop was the bathroom. Brian made a joke about making some sort of tour of Pittsburgh bathrooms, but Rob could hear the frustration in his voice, behind the attempt at sardonic humor. While he waited for his friend to finish, Rob began unpacking his own suitcase, because he always found it easier if he put all of his things in the dresser drawers and stashed the suitcase in the closet, so there would be less sitting around and taking up floor space. He was just setting his rolled-up yoga mat down on the bed when Brian came back into the room.

“You brought a yoga mat?” Brian said.

“Yes.”

“You really do that shit every day? Even when you’re not home?”

“Yes. You should try it sometime.” Rob tried not to roll his eyes. Really, he was glad to hear typical Brian coming out, even in the middle of all of this upheaval. “You might end up liking it.”

“You and all your new age, hippie bullshit.”

“Says the man who smokes a joint at least once a week. And don’t think I don’t know that you do.”

“Enjoying pot doesn’t make me a hippie.”

“Maybe not, but neither does practicing yoga. There’s a lot more to yoga than what you’re thinking.”

“That’s what Michael’s husband Ben says too. I used to call him Zen Ben, until he punched some homophobe’s lights out at a candlelight vigil. He’s all self-actualized and shit. Got really into buddhism after he was diagnosed with HIV, back before he and Michael ever met. You two will love each other. You remember Michael, right? You guys met a couple of years ago when he was visiting me in New York.”

“I remember him. He seemed like a good guy. A good friend.”

“He is. He and his mother pretty much saved me in junior high and high school. I would have lost my mind if it wasn’t for them.”

Rob wondered what Brian was referring to, but didn’t ask. He didn’t know much about how Brian had grown up, and Brian wasn’t very forthcoming with it either. Rob didn’t want to push Brian into talking about something he wasn’t comfortable with, so he let it go, but he always felt like there was something significant there. Rob would talk about his own parents sometimes -- happily married, together for almost 50 years now, still living in his hometown outside of Chicago -- and he would notice a strange, far away look coming over Brian’s face whenever the subject came up, like he was getting lost in his own thoughts or memories, but they weren’t pleasant ones. Brian had the same sort of look on his face right now, so Rob decided to change the subject.

“Why don’t we go up to your room?” he asked. “I brought you a care package -- it’s in your suitcase.” He left out the rest of what he wanted to say there, in the interest of not seeming like he was trying to breathe down Brian’s neck, since he'd already been cautioned against that. But, his real reason for going upstairs was because he wanted Brian to be able to rest if he wanted to. He looked like he’d had a long day. A lot of long days, actually. And the Brian Kinney he knew would keep going, no matter what, until he’d driven himself to exhaustion, which it sounded like Brian had already done over the past several days.

When they got upstairs, Rob immediately saw how much smaller Brian’s room was than his own -- it was missing all of the extra space that normally went along with an accessible room. There was hardly enough room for both of them to even be in there and still be able to move.

“Don’t tell me you let them put you in a regular room,” Rob sighed. “Why would you not say anything to them? That’s not like you at all. Can you even get to the other side of the bed? Because I don’t think I could.”

Brian shrugged. “I don’t need to get to the other side of the bed. Justin never made it here, so he didn’t check in. By the time I got here, they’d given the room I reserved away to someone else, and there weren’t any accessible rooms left. They were supposed to upgrade me later, but there’s been so much going on that I haven’t thought to check in with them about it. Too many other things to worry about.”

“Well, I think you should call them about it right now. This isn’t right. They should have done something more for you. You barely have room to move around.”

“There’s a seat in the shower, so it works. I’m making it work. All I’m doing here is showering and sleeping. Or at least trying to sleep.”

Suddenly, Brian was looking even more exhausted than he had been just a few minutes before, so Rob decided not to push the issue, even though it seemed strange and very not-Brian-like to just take whatever he was given and not try to fight to be fully accommodated. The Brian Kinney he knew would have gone straight downstairs and not left until the problem was resolved. This shrugging, accepting-of-whatever Brian, wasn't the one he knew. Not at all.

Rob hoisted the suitcase up onto the bed and unzipped it, digging past the clothes Brian had asked him to bring, and pulling out a bag full of the things he’d anticipated Brian might need but would probably never ask for.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I went through the closet in your bathroom and pulled out some things I thought you might need...especially with...you know.”

Brian looked relieved as he sifted through the contents of the bag. “Thanks man,” he said. “You read my mind.”

“Glad I’m good for something.” Rob smiled.

“Look, uh… Thanks for coming, and for bringing all of this. I know I tried to talk you out of it, but I’m glad you’re here. How long are you staying?”

“As long as I need to. I can work remotely, and Adam and his mom have the kids covered for right now.” Adam was a teacher, so he was on winter break for another week, and his mom was retired, just visiting so she could spend time with her grandchildren. It was no problem at all, and Rob didn’t want Brian to make it into one.

“I just don’t know how long this is going to take. How long it’ll be before we can go home. I hate asking anyone else to put their lives on hold just because mine is.”

“You didn’t ask. I volunteered. Now, where can we put this so you can sleep?” Rob looked at the suitcase.

“Fuck if I know.”

“Brian, this room is too small for you.”

“I’m too tired to deal with moving tonight,” Brian sighed. “I’m actually starting to wonder if I need to look for a temporary apartment, but I don’t know. Everything’s so up in the air right now. It’s fucking overwhelming.” He ran a hand through his hair and looked down at the floor.

“I know. Just focus on one thing at a time.”

“There you go with the advice again.”

“I’m serious, Brian. Look at me. One thing at a time. You can only do one thing at a time. You don’t have to do it all at once. And, because I know you, I’ll say this: You also don’t have to do it alone. You can’t do it alone. Let people help you.”

“I know. Michael’s been telling me the same thing.”

“Sounds like he’s a smart man, then. You should listen to one of us.” Rob paused and looked around for a place he could put the suitcase, although right now, on top of the dresser next to the television looked like the only place there was that either one of them could get to. So he put it there, and hoped that tomorrow he might be able to convince Brian to change rooms. It was so strange to see Brian not being vocal about getting exactly what he wanted -- instead, he’d almost acted resigned to it, or like he just didn’t have the energy to care. That worried Rob a little. Brian had always put Rob’s “figuring people out” skills to the test, and it looked like now would be no exception.

“Alright,” Rob said. “I’m going to go back down and wash off all the airport grime and unwind a little bit. Get some rest. Call me if you need me.”

Rob spent the rest of the evening trying to figure out Brian’s strange behavior -- sometimes, he seemed like himself, and then others, he seemed like anything but. Although Rob guessed that having your husband almost die would do that to a person. He was still having a hard time wrapping his brain around how Brian was still functioning. And now that he’d seen him, he thought maybe he was barely functioning at all.

The next morning, Rob prodded Brian to go to the hotel’s front desk and ask to be moved to a different room, which they happily obliged, apologizing for not doing it sooner and saying they’d take care of getting everything moved over. With that out of the way, they headed over to the hospital together. Brian didn’t look like he’d slept very well, but Rob didn’t say anything. The first thing he noticed when they arrived at Justin’s room, though, was how both Brian and Justin seemed simultaneously uplifted when they saw each other. This connection they had was truly something -- and it was why Rob had such a hard time thinking that they’d spent so much time apart before they finally got married.

After he greeted Brian, Justin looked past him toward Rob, his surprise clear on his face, mixed with a note of confusion.

“You’re here,” Justin said. “But you’re… Wait… I am in Pittsburgh...right?”

Brian laughed. A genuine laugh. Rob loved hearing that. “Yes, Sunshine, you’re still in Pittsburgh.”

“I flew out yesterday. Somebody has to keep Brian in line,” Rob said, grinning and winking at Justin. “It’s a tall order, but I think I can do it.”

“Good...move,” Justin said, smiling. “Good to...see you.”

“You too, man. You look good. Adam sends his best, and said to tell you that he needs his substitute art teacher back ASAP, so you'd better get well soon.”

Justin laughed and rolled his eyes. Rob remembered how much of a fight Justin had put up when Adam first asked him to think about becoming a sub, but it turned out that Justin really liked it. Brian said he looked forward to getting those calls and getting to show the kids what it was like to create and let their imaginations run wild. He hoped that bringing it up now might help give Justin a sense of purpose.

Justin’s mother had already been in the room when Rob and Brian arrived, so they all talked for a little while, until Justin started falling asleep. Shortly after that, Jennifer had to leave to take care of something for work, and then it was just Brian and Rob. Rob tried to keep the conversation as light as possible -- he was sure Brian had more than enough heavy topics to deal with. So they talked about Christmas and the kids and what Adam was doing with himself since the lucky bastard had three weeks off from work and how they’d all taken the kids ice skating last week at Rockefeller Center.

“Sophia kept insisting that I needed to go on the ice too. I don’t think she gets it,” Rob said, chuckling.

“She’s four. Probably not.”

“Would be kind of nice if everyone else had a kid’s perspective sometimes, huh? Instead of tripping all over themselves trying to find the politically correct way to say something, or being afraid they’ll offend you somehow. Kids just accept you as you are. She sees me as no different from any other dad. She was just like, let’s go do it, daddy. And it was hard to tell her no.”

“Gus was six when I got hurt. They were already living in Toronto, though. By the time I saw him, I was already out of rehab and sort of holding my own. I think he just thought my chair was a cool, new toy that he could play with any time I wasn’t in it. I never really had to talk to him about it. I guess his moms probably did. I don’t know though.” Brian paused and let out a breath. “I have to find some way to get together with Gus before he has to go back to Toronto with Mel and Linds.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“I’m just not sure I have time.”

“You’ll make time. And if you find that you really can’t, I’m sure he’ll understand. He loves Justin too. He’s a good kid, Brian.”

Rob had met Gus on more than one occasion, when he’d come to spend a couple of weeks during the summer with Brian and Justin in New York. Gus loved the city, and it was easy to see how much he cared about his father and liked spending time with him.

At that moment, Rob heard someone clearing their throat at the door. He looked over to see a woman with flaming red, curly hair, wearing an outfit that was just as loud as her hair and makeup, holding a stack of plastic containers.

Once she’d been acknowledged, she came in and set the containers down on the bedside table. Rob could immediately smell garlic.

“I brought some food,” she said, as she crossed the room and bent down to give Brian a kiss on the cheek.

“I noticed,” Brian chuckled.

“I brought Justin his chicken parmesan. Hopefully he can eat it today.”

“I think you might be a day or two early, but we’ll see.”

“Well, I couldn’t wait. How’s he doing?”

“About the same, I guess. Just sort of holding steady.”

“And who’s your friend here?”

“Oh, sorry, this is Rob. He’s a friend of mine from New York. Rob, this is Debbie, Michael’s mother.”

Rob stuck his hand out to shake Debbie’s. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said.

“Aren’t you just fucking adorable?” she said as she took his hand, then used it to pull him into a hug. “Now that’s how we Novotnys greet people. How long are you in town for?”

“Not sure yet,” Rob said. “Just playing it by ear.”

“Well, if you’ll be in town on Sunday, our whole family gets together for dinner every Sunday -- whoever’s in town. And this one,” she paused and poked Brian in the shoulder, “had better be there, because he needs a good meal. You’re more than welcome to come too. I’d love to have you.”

“Don’t even bother trying to say no to her,” Brian said. “It doesn’t work. I don’t think she knows the meaning of the word.”

“I wasn’t going to say no,” Rob said to Brian, before he turned to Debbie and smiled. “Thank you. We’ll be there.”

Rob and Brian spent the rest of the day at the hospital. Brian said Justin was waking up more often now than he had been, and his speech sounded better, but he still had a lot of holes in his memory. That hadn’t changed much at all since Justin had woken up. Brian described it as being like Justin had the basic storyline, but was missing a lot of the details. For example, he knew the nature of his and Brian’s relationship, but he didn’t remember the time they’d spent apart the year before they got married, nor did he remember their marriage. He couldn’t remember learning about Brian’s accident, or how they’d dealt with the effects of it. It was so odd, but Brian said the doctor had told them that spotty memory loss was normal. They were all just hoping it would resolve before too much longer.

Justin did get to eat some of the chicken parmesan, after a good bit of begging and pleading on his part with several nurses and one doctor. Rob had to laugh there -- Justin was sick of broth and jello, and Rob didn’t blame him. Besides, Rob had eaten some of the food Debbie had brought as well, and it was all delicious. He was really looking forward to Sunday, not only for the food, but also because he’d get to meet more of Brian’s Pittsburgh family.

They left in the early evening, after Jennifer finally made it back from her day at the office.

Rob’s stomach was growling, and Brian wanted a cup of coffee, so Rob pulled the car into the parking lot of a little diner where he hoped he could find some good comfort food. Maybe he’d even be able to convince Brian to eat something.

They had just found a table when Brian looked to their right and muttered, “Fuck.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“It’s my goddamn mother and my sister and her fucking demon spawn. Right over there. Guess they must be having their holiday get-together. That’s the only reason I can think of that my mother would be eating at a restaurant. Even a five-star establishment like this.”

Rob looked in the direction Brian was, and saw two women and two young men sitting a couple of tables over. It looked like they had just finished their meal.

“Why don’t we go over and say hello?” Rob said. “I’d love to meet your family.”

“Was the way I just talked about them not enough to make it clear how much I definitely do not want to do that? Trust me, you don’t want to meet my family. Not my real one, anyway.”

However, it seemed it was too late for that. No sooner were those words out of Brian’s mouth, than Rob saw the younger woman, whom he presumed to be Brian’s sister, turn and look directly at Brian, then say something to the older woman who must have been their mother. Seconds later, the entire table of four was looking at Brian and Rob. And seconds after that, the older woman got up from her chair and approached their table. Behind her, Brian’s sister was still staring. The two young men at the table appeared to be in their 20s. The older one seemed to be shooting daggers at Brian with his eyes, while the younger one mostly looked like he didn’t want to be there, and also seemed to be a bit concerned about what was about to happen.

“Brian,” the older woman said. Her voice was cold. Not motherly at all. “I’m surprised to see you here in this neighborhood.”

“We were just passing through,” Brian said, just as coldly. “My friend here wanted some food.”

“Oh?” She turned toward Rob and looked him up and down. Her gaze paused at his chair, just like most strangers’ did, before she managed to draw it back up to make eye contact. She looked at Brian again and said, “I heard you got married. I guess I figured it would have been to that blonde boy you corrupted all those years ago. I thought you were still with him the last time I saw you. What was his name again?”

“Justin. And I was. And I did marry him. This is Rob. He’s just a friend. Rob, this is Joan, the woman who birthed me.”

Brian told her nothing more, which Rob thought was curious. He didn’t mention Justin being in the hospital. He didn’t mention Rob being from New York. Rob wondered if Brian’s mother even knew where he lived. He couldn’t imagine being that out-of-touch with his family. But, then again, this entire family dynamic was throwing him for a loop.

“Uh,” Rob sputtered, not sure what to say, but wanting to fill the uncomfortable silence. He decided to fall back on his midwestern manners and just say, “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, my friend and I would like to have a private conversation,” Brian said. He turned to face Rob, staring straight at him and completely ignoring his mother, until she turned and walked away haughtily.

Brian’s sister and her two kids got up and followed Joan out of the restaurant. Brian’s sister shot him a dirty look as she turned to go, while the older boy was still looking at Brian as if he wished he could strike him dead with just his eyes, and the younger boy still looked like he wanted to stop it all, but didn’t know how. The bell above the door rang as they exited the diner, and Rob saw Brian let out a breath.

“Well, that was...interesting,” Rob said.

“I told you that you didn’t want to meet them. Bunch of homophobic assholes is all they are.”

“Is that what you grew up with?”

“Pretty much. Frigid bitch for a mother with a side of abusive, alcoholic father. They had a hateful marriage. My sister grew to hate me as we got older, for reasons I don’t even know. And my nephew once accused me of molesting him and got me hauled into the police station and nearly arrested.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. It was a great time. I met Michael when we were 14, and Debbie kind of took me under her wing. I can’t imagine how I would have turned out if it weren’t for the two of them. They showed me how family was supposed to be. What it was like to have someone care about you.”

“Well, I’m glad you found them, because you deserved better than what I just saw. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Brian shrugged and said, “It is what it is. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Rob tried to shift the conversation to more pleasant topics as Brian drank his coffee and Rob got the comfort food he’d been looking for. But he couldn’t ignore the familiar, far away look in Brian’s eyes when there would be a lull in the conversation.

The next day was a not-so-great day for Justin. He started physical and occupational therapy for his right hand, and it apparently hadn’t gone well. They took Justin away from the room for about an hour, during which time Rob and Brian went to the cafeteria to grab some food. When they got back to the room, Justin was alone, sitting up in the bed and looking out the window, with tears running down his face.

Brian immediately went into crisis-management mode, going straight to Justin’s side and taking his hand.

“Hey, Sunshine… What’s wrong?”

Justin held up his right hand and moved his fingers just slightly. “That’s all...I can do. And that took...an hour.”

“But that’s something, right? That’s more than you could do this morning. You know it takes time. You’ve been through this before.”

“Yes... I don’t want...to do it again.” Justin let his hand drop back to the bed.

“I know, Sunshine. I don’t want you to have to do it again, either. But you’ll get there. You know you will.”

“You don’t...know that.”

Brian looked away for a moment and swallowed. “No, I don’t,” he said, looking back up at Justin. “But I know you. And I know that you don’t just give up. You fight.”

“I can’t hold...a pencil. I just want...to draw. That’s me. I draw. I paint. That’s who...I am.”

“Justin, there are lots of options out there,” Rob interjected, almost hating to interrupt, but also not wanting to see Justin go down the path of despair that he seemed to be headed for. “You’d be surprised at how many different tools are out there to help with paralysis and physical deficits. And if something doesn’t already exist, we can make it. I’m sure we could figure it out.”

Brian nodded. “Yes, listen to him Justin. He knows. Remember Lindsay’s friend Adrienne? She’s a quadriplegic, and she still paints. Art is who you are, yes...but that doesn’t mean you should give up because it’s hard. It means you should find a way.”

Justin closed his eyes and bit his lip, as more tears fell from his eyes. Seconds later, he was sobbing, and Brian was trying to comfort him as best he could.

“I’ll, um… I’ll give you two some privacy,” Rob said. Brian nodded at him in silent acknowledgement as he continued comforting Justin.

Rob left the room and closed the door behind him, heading down the hallway, where he ran into Michael.

“I wouldn’t go in there right now,” Rob said. “Justin’s pretty upset. I left so they could be alone.”

The two of them ducked into a nearby waiting room to wait. Michael sank into a chair, looking uncomfortable, but Rob could see that the feeling wasn’t physical -- it was mental.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, before Michael suddenly spoke.

“So, you flew in all the way from New York?” he said.

“I did.”

“That’s a long way.”

“I’m sure you’d do the same if Justin had been in an accident in New York -- you would have come out to be there for Brian.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Michael let his voice trail off, but Rob was fairly sure that the rest of the thought would have been something along the lines of, “that’s different.”

Although it really wasn’t different at all.

“I guess I didn’t realize you guys were so close,” Michael said quietly, looking down at his hands.

“We’re pretty good friends, yeah.”

“I guess that makes sense. You two seem to have a lot in common. I’m not sure how much he and I have in common anymore, other than having been friends for more than 20 years. I wish I could see him all the time, the way we used to be.” Michael looked away wistfully. “I miss that. You’re lucky.”

“Michael, you’re important to him too. He talks about you all the time. How much you mean to him. That you and your mother saved him. What an impact you had on his life. It sounds like you think I’m replacing you, but I’m not. I couldn’t. He misses you too.”

“He does?”

“Why wouldn’t he? You’re his best friend.”

“He still says that?”

“Yeah, he does. You mean a lot to him, Michael. And you’ve been a big help to him through all of this. I’m just here to help even more -- to make that easier.”

Rob knew that he and Michael would be able to help Brian even more if they could work together, and the last thing he wanted to do was come between Brian and his best friend.

“Thanks,” Michael said. “I just miss him. Sometimes I’m afraid we’ll drift apart and I’ll lose him forever.”

“You won’t. You’re family. You’ll always love each other, and you’ll always be there for each other, even when you’re apart.”

Michael smiled and nodded. “Yeah… I guess you’re right.”

As the picture was coming together of what Brian had grown up with, Rob was starting to see just how important Brian’s Pittsburgh family probably was to him. Rob’s experience had been so different that it was difficult to imagine what Brian had gone through before he met Michael and his mother. Rob’s family was always loving, always accepting -- even when he’d come out to them in high school by telling them point-blank that he was going to the prom with a boy. He couldn’t wrap his mind around having a family that didn’t accept you for who you are, and just plain didn't care. It made him sad for Brian, in some ways. But in others, it made him realize just how strong Brian was, to overcome all of that and still turn out the way he had.

The next few days were relatively uneventful, with Justin continuing to make small improvements every day that seemed to be bolstering his confidence, although he was still a bit frustrated and depressed. Who wouldn’t be, in his situation? Brian seemed to be doing alright most of the time, too. Rob could tell he was feeling a bit better, physically, although Rob was still having to push him to eat and remind him to drink more water when he’d get distracted by one aspect or another of Justin’s situation. He still didn’t seem to be sleeping very well, though, and Rob wondered what was going on there. Just stress, maybe. That could certainly wear a person out.

On Sunday afternoon, they left Jennifer keeping Justin company, while Brian drove them over to Debbie’s house for Sunday dinner. He parked Rob’s rental car in the alley out back, and they went into the house through the back door without even knocking. The house was warm and cozy and smelled amazing, and Rob could see a steaming pan of something saucy and cheesy sitting on the counter.

“Hey, you two,” Debbie said, her hands busy chopping vegetables for the biggest bowl of salad Rob had ever seen in his life. “Make yourselves at home.”

“I wish I had someone to cook for me like this every Sunday,” Rob said as he took off his coat and handed it to Brian.

“If you lived here, I’m sure Deb would be more than happy to fatten you up,” Brian laughed. He took both of their coats over to the rack by the front door and hung them up, just as someone else knocked.

“Brian, will you get that, honey?” Debbie called from the kitchen.

“Honey?” Rob said, raising an eyebrow and grinning at Brian.

“Shut up,” Brian said as he opened the door. On the other side was a tall, thin man wearing a pink coat, standing alongside someone Rob recognized -- Drew Boyd, a player for the Pittsburgh Ironmen.

Brian introduced him to the man in the pink coat -- Emmett -- and of course, to Drew, even though Rob already knew him but was trying to play it cool. It turned out that Emmett and Drew were married. A few minutes later, Michael showed up with a tall, very muscular man that Brian introduced as Ben, Michael’s husband and Rob’s fellow zen master. Then came Ted, who was also the chief financial officer for Brian’s company, Kinnetik, and Blake, Ted’s husband, whom Rob would later learn was a counselor at a drug rehab center. Deb’s husband Carl came down from upstairs shortly after that, and it looked like everyone was there -- at least, all of the mismatched chairs crammed into the general vicinity around the table were accounted for.

“Is that everybody?” Brian asked. “I’m hungry.”

“Who are you, and what did you do with Brian Kinney?” Deb said, laughing. “Or are you trying to channel Sunshine? I swear, that kid is always hungry. Anyhow, we’re waiting for one more.”

Brian looked around, his eyebrows knitted together in a confused expression. “Who?”

Right then, Rob heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He turned around just in time to see Gus pop his head around the banister and say, “Me.” Gus came up to Brian and gave him a hug.

“I thought you would have gone back to Toronto with your moms,” Brian said.

“I don’t have to go back to school for another week. Grandma Debbie said I could stay with her.” Gus paused for a moment and bit his lip. “I wanted to spend some more time with you.”

Rob looked at Brian and his son and smiled. He’d known it would all work out in the end.

As they all gathered around the too-small table to share a meal, Rob could see how much this little mismatched family truly cared for one another. They laughed, and they teased one another, sometimes mercilessly, but beneath it all, there was always love. And Rob was really glad Brian had that, because everyone deserved to have that.

After the food was gone and the glasses of wine were nearly empty, Rob thanked Debbie for what had been one of the best meals he’d had in a long time -- the food as well as the company. “Thanks for welcoming me into your home,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, honey. Welcome to our little family. Any friend of my youngest son is a friend of mine,” Deb said as she winked at Brian.

Brian gave her a small smile that almost looked shy.

“Thanks, mom.”


End file.
